


Dragon Queen Prompt

by Kc749



Series: DQ Portal Verse [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6677515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kc749/pseuds/Kc749
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How about Dragon Queen? :) The prompt is how Mal influenced Regina’s clothing, more specifically, how young Regina replaced the leather vests for those extravagant dresses with pronounced cleavage."</p><p>So... this was from forever ago. I expected it to be short *muse laughs maniacally in the distance* and I ended up with about 4000 words. And that only gets them through the first part. I *think* there will be three. I'm not even sure. And I have no idea when I will write the next two thirds. But senselessverses says I must post it because she doesn't like the thought of it sitting on my desktop, all alone. So here it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragon Queen Prompt

**Author's Note:**

> There's some of (what I consider canon) non-con between Leopold and Regina in here. Otherwise, this chapter would be no higher than a PG14 rating.

Regina squashes the urge to sigh, and instead counts to 10 before slowly releasing the breath she’s been holding. These balls never seem to get less tedious. In fact, they were only becoming more so as Snow White got a bit older and was now being actively courted by many a dashing young nobleman. Now she has to watch their awkward fumbling along with her royal husband’s saccharine doting on Snow. It’s pathetic.

Her eyes flick to the clock on the mantle, and then without her consent her gaze drifts to a nearby window, the darkness of the sky outside studded with stars. Somewhere out there Mal was flying. Without her.

She’s become somewhat addicted to their flights together, the freedom she feels up above all this lowly human drama. There’s a whole world out there that few humans have ever seen, because how many can say they’ve befriended a dragon? With Maleficent, she’s seen wonders she can barely find words to describe. Little islands in the midst of vast bodies of water, with strange plants and even stranger creatures. Beautiful multi-coloured lights stretching across the sky, while the air all around was cold enough to sting her ears and make her cheeks numb. Caves with jewels in them that would pay for Leopold’s kingdom and everything in it a hundred times over.

Regina has seen many strange things with Rumple too, but she never feels the same sense of safety in his presence that she does in Mal’s. She always gets the sense that, despite Rumple’s claims that she’s important to the future, he’d happily watch her fail and possibly die if he thought it would benefit him.

“My loyal subjects,” Leopold calls, and Regina has to repress the urge to smile because she knows that it means this monotonous party is almost at an end. He’ll drone on for a few minutes and then make his way to his chambers for the night. With the amount of wine he’s had she is certain he won’t request her presence there, which is perhaps the only bright side to these dull parties; they tire him enough with his age that all he wants to do by the end of them is sleep the night away.

Minutes after Leopold has said his goodbyes and made his exit, she summons a servant and tells them that she too is ready to retire. She manages to control her eye roll when Snow begs her to stay just a bit later, and isn’t this party so much fun? She doesn’t let on that she disagrees, just waits until Snow has stopped talking and claims fatigue and an early morning tomorrow. After that the princess nods and insists on kissing her cheek and embracing her before she goes, which she tolerates while entertaining the thought of how easily she could rip the girl’s heart from her chest now that Rumple has taught her how.

 

* * *

 

In her chambers, the fire is burning high behind a grate and candles flicker as she enters followed by a maidservant. The gown she’s wearing is cumbersome enough that she’s going to require significant help getting out of it, and she wishes for the simplicity of the divided skirts that she wears on a regular basis when not forced into more ceremonial garb. Initially the strangeness of her outfits had caused some discussion among the royal dressing maids, until she had snapped at them about how it was the clothing of her homelands and that they had best keep their opinions to themselves unless they would like to explain themselves to the king. Occasionally, being Leopold’s wife does have its benefits.

“My lady!” the maidservant exclaims, only to be silenced a second later. After a moment Regina recognises that she’s been frozen mid word, her hand raised to indicate something. The queen doesn’t even need to turn her head to know what she’ll see when she turns.

“Hello, Maleficent,” she says, a little smile playing at one side of her lips. “How nice of you to visit.” She turns to take in the sight of the dragon woman, lounging on one of her padded chaises near the window and with a goblet of wine in one hand and... is that her mother’s spell book in the other? What is it with these people and rooting through her possessions?

“Regina dear, it took you ages to get here. One would almost wonder if you weren’t enjoying yourself at that insipid little gathering.”

“Hardly,” Regina says, allowing her eyes to roll now that she’s back among familiar company. “Are you going to do something about that?” She indicates the frozen servant with a tilt of her head. “I’d prefer you didn’t kill her, I’ll need her help to get out of this ridiculous thing.” She indicates her dress with a wave of a hand.

Mal’s eyes drift over her form, taking in the dress, the way it clings to Regina’s hips and breasts in a way those leather riding outfits and long cloaks do not. After a moment, and with a wave of her hand, the maid servant disappears entirely. Regina opens her mouth to say something and Maleficent cuts her off. “She’s simply been sent to another part of the castle. She’ll think she wandered there on an errand and forgot what it was. She hasn’t come to any harm.”

Regina glances down at herself. “And how am I supposed to get out of this?”

Mal is suppressing a smile, Regina can tell, which is something she does often when she knows something the queen doesn’t. She doesn’t elaborate about what’s so amusing though, just replies “I suppose it’s about time you learned some more practical things about magic. Changing an outfit may seem like a silly use of power, but there are situations where it definitely has its advantages. Blending in to your surroundings in some situations. And standing out in others.”

 

* * *

 

Forty five minutes later, and much to Regina’s distress, she still hasn’t been able to remove so much as an earring, never mind the cursed dress and corset biting into her back and sides. Maleficent had been amused at Regina’s failure at first, because Regina usually picks up new things with ease and her distress at what she sees as her natural intelligence deserting her had been delicious. She’s a sight when she’s angry, is Regina; all dark flashing eyes and an almost growling tone of voice that does... things, to Mal. Things she’s more and more convinced that she won’t be able to hide much longer.

Now though, Mal is starting to feel a little irritated and impatient, and, if she’s being honest, a tad guilty as well. Poor Regina looks crestfallen (which Mal takes as proof that the younger woman trusts her enough to let down some of her walls) and it’s really Maleficent’s fault. She could’ve just cast an invisibility spell and let the maid help Regina out of her clothing before appearing. And she could change the woman’s outfit to anything she wants whenever she wants. But now that she’s set the challenge before her, Regina is reluctant to quit until she has it figured out.

“Perhaps we should try this in another way. You were attempting to cause your clothing to change entirely from one outfit to another, all at once. And that is indeed how I change, but it could be a bit different for you as a human. Try this: Imagine a cloud of magic surrounding you, cloaking you. As it rises from your feet toward your head, imagine it changing your clothing piece by piece.” She doesn’t mention how this reminds her of the young of most species, starting out fumbling and awkward and eventually becoming more graceful. She doesn’t think that Regina would appreciate the comparison.

Regina closes her eyes for a second, nods, and takes a cleansing breath. Then a cloud of purple surrounds her, starting near her feet and gradually working its way up to her head. Mal holds her breath a bit as the last wisps of hair piled high on the queen’s head disappear behind purple... only to reappear, several seconds later, sans accoutrement and down on her shoulders. The only thing left covering the young queen. All her clothes have vanished.

It takes about a second for the shock on Regina’s face to really show. With those expressive eyes of hers, Mal gets to watch her entire thought process from “It worked?” to “Oh no!” The queen lets out a startled noise and grabs for the nearest thing she can to cover herself, but not before Maleficent gets to see her turn a glorious shade of pink from her hairline to the middle of her chest.

Mal waves her hand and Regina is swathed in a silk robe. “I suppose you’ll need to practice that some more,” she says drily, trying not to make a big deal out of it. Regina has her arms wrapped around her body, almost hugging the material of the robe to herself as if afraid it too will disappear. “Come Regina. Have some wine and stop worrying so much.” She gestures to the chaise where she’d been perched when the queen first entered the room.

The young woman looks a bit torn, glancing at the robe she’s wearing as if contemplating whether it’s decent enough to permit sitting around in. After a moment she seems to come to a decision and walks over, sitting in another chair across from Maleficent and accepting a cup of wine gratefully. It isn’t that she’s unused to having others see her body; she is married, and to a man who can take what he wants whenever he wants. And though her preferred clothing is something she’s capable of donning herself, she’s worn enough gowns and frippery by now that she’s had many a servant see her at least partially nude.

Somehow, though, Maleficent is different. Regina can’t quite work out what she feels when the older woman is around. It’s almost like what she felt with Daniel (her heart twinges painfully and she sternly orders herself not to tear up) but it’s... sharper. Not the warm comfort of feeling safe in an embrace as much as the feeling of a roaring fire on a cold night. Too close, and you get burned. Too far away, and it does you no good at all.

At least her heart has stopped racing after that scare.

“You have a bruise on your thigh,” Maleficent says with a tilted head.

Regina glances down, but the robe is covering her so Mal must have taken that in during her accidental nudity. “I walked into a table.” Mal snorts in amusement, and Regina glares.

“So graceful,” the dragon teases, and while Regina feels almost inclined to argue with her, it kind of feels good, because she knows that the teasing is just that. Mal doesn’t mean anything by it, and takes Regina’s ribbing about her eating habits (honestly, mutton should not still be able to ‘bahhh’ at a person while on the plate) fairly well.

They sit together, talking quietly, until the sun comes up.

 

* * *

 

Regina doesn’t get to see Mal again for nearly five weeks. Leopold has returned, and spring has arrived in his kingdom at the same time. The days are filled with court appearances and visiting delegations, the evenings full of revelry, though Regina feels no urge to join in. By the time she makes it to her blankets at night, she is usually asleep before the covers have adjusted to her body heat. Several times she’s fallen asleep sitting in her evening bath; if not for very attentive servants, she might have drowned by now.

Even her training with Rumple suffers. She can only do so much in one day, and he’d finally sighed in irritation and banished her from his castle until summer, claiming he could use the time to travel in search of magical artifacts. She hadn’t asked more about what kind those artifacts might be after reading Nishlade’s Compendium of Rare and Useful Creatures, only to find that with each life form it listed, it told of life span, exactly how to kill it, and which spells would benefit from the addition of the creature or its remains. She’ll kill if she has to, but Regina has no interest in reading a book that details the many and varied uses of dragons as a spell ingredient. The thought of someone killing Mal and using her body sickens her.

Finally though, things at the palace begin to settle down. One night she returns to her chambers early enough that the sky outside is still light, and finds a small folded sheet of paper on her reading desk, by the window. It’s sealed, not just with wax and stamp, but also with a minor spell. If anyone but the person it is meant for picks it up with the intention to open it, they will put the letter down leave the room without remembering why. Regina smiles a little at the feeling of Mal’s magic (so different from Rumple’s) and breaks the seal.

 

_Regina,_

_I leave in three night’s time for a realm far from here. A portal which is only accessible once in every 700 year span will arrive, and I must take the opportunity it presents. Once stepped into, time slows down to almost nothing on this side; when I return from the portal nearly a year will have passed for me, but on this side it will be as if I were gone for moments only._

_Are you wondering why I wrote to tell you this yet, little one? I have seen glimpses of you in your mirrors many times over these past few weeks._

_The trappings of royalty suit you. But your eyes tell the truth: like a dragon, you need freedom._

_I will wait for you at the entrance to the Rivkersvale woods, until the moon begins to rise three nights from now. If you wish to come with me, be there._

_There is much about this world that you have never seen, Regina. Would you like me to show it to you?_

_Maleficent_

 

* * *

 

Regina doesn’t sleep more than an hour or two that night. She picks over all the options in her mind. Thinks about whether it’s a fake note meant to trap her, except it was Mal’s magic. She thinks about how credible (or not) Mal’s information might be about this portal. How certain is it that no time will pass here? How certain is it that they will be able to return the same way? After all, even Rumple has chased leads in his spell books that end up going nowhere; it isn’t inconceivable that Mal could do the same.

It goes on and on (what if they die? what about provisions?) well past the point when the first rays of light begin streaming into her rooms. She’s distracted at breakfast, and cursed Snow won’t leave her be, blabbering about how the afternoon is free and she wants to go riding, and won’t Regina please come and watch her at least? She agrees if only to shut Snow up, and besides, she only has to pretend to watch and clap at the right moments.

By evening, she’s worn out and her head is sore. The strain of needing to make such a momentous decision has knotted the muscles at the back of her neck. She really just wants to lie down and try to catch up on some of the sleep she missed yesterday. And of course Leopold orders her to his bed.

She goes, obviously. Has no choice. He’s particularly keyed up tonight, and it makes him less gentle than usual. She bites her lip at times, and clenches her hands, and refuses to cry out or show weakness. Mother’s perfect daughter.

Back in her own chambers, after she has the servants bring her a basin of warm water and a cloth, she allows herself to wince this time at the pressure of the cloth, and gasps aloud at the sting she feels when she uses the privy to urinate; apparently there must be some damage there, even if there’s no visible blood.

She finally crawls into bed and pulls up all the covers despite the warmth of the night after the winter months. She dreams she’s walking in a field alone, no signs of civilisation in sight. She wakes with tears on her face.

 

* * *

 

Over the next several days, her decision is made and remade a hundred times. One moment, she’s sure she is going, begins to plan how she will leave the castle with the least amount of notice, and the next, she’s just as certain that leaving is not even an option. She has her revenge on Snow White to think about. And what if something goes wrong? Outside of this kingdom, she’s just another woman, without any money or titles to her name.

The morning of the second day, she visits Rocinante in the stables. He’s her oldest companion. She rides him out into the woods at the northern edge of the castle, two guards following at a distance of about 20 paces. She tells Rocinante all of it. Mal, the portal, the fact that she’ll be gone for nearly a year (that makes her heart squeeze and her eyes tear up, she’ll miss him so much) and he nuzzles her at all the right times, and she thinks about how easy life would be if people were as wise and simple as horses.

It isn’t until late that night when she realises she said “When I leave” while talking to him, and knows that her mind is made up.

 

* * *

 

Packing is a nightmare.

Bad enough that Regina has to do it when there aren’t any prying eyes around, but she also has no damned idea what this place they’re going to looks like. Is it warm? Cold? Filled with trolls and goblins and gnomes?

Figuring out which clothing to take isn’t even the worst issue she has. Which spell ingredients should she bring? She’s sitting in a chair, doing pretty much nothing except staring blankly at her closet, when she hears an amused voice behind her. “You’re overthinking.”

“Well if you told me more than ‘three nights from now’ and ‘almost a year’ maybe I wouldn’t be,” she snaps as Mal walks over to the fire and holds out her hands, smile firmly in place.

“Honestly, Regina, do you think I can’t magic up whatever you think you might need? Aside from spell ingredients, there’s not much more I’d advise you to take with you. Perhaps something small to remind you of your home; you’ll miss it more than you think before we return,” Mal muses.

“All I have of my home is Rocinante and my apple tree. Both are, I’m assuming, out of the question.” Regina’s voice is still sarcastic. Mal has given her a few nights of stress, she doesn’t deserve to be let off so easily.

“Hmm.” Mal’s eyes wander the room, land on a leather shielded paper case. She opens it, flips idly through the contents, takes out any papers which are not blank, and then walks over and places a chair near Regina’s. Reaching out, she takes the younger woman’s hand and rests it on the closed case, then rests her own (much warmer) fingertips on Regina’s. Her other hand rises to gently brush against the young woman’s temple. A brief flicker of disorientation runs through Regina.

“What was that?” she asks cautiously. Mal simply smiles a bit and holds out the case of papers.

Regina frowns but opens it, pulls out a sheet of paper. Gasps.

It’s Daniel. Standing in the arch of the barn, waiting for a break in an early morning rainstorm before dashing to the nearby well. She remembers it like it was yesterday (and not just for the scolding she got from mother about not running around in the mud and catching her death.) She remembers the deep green tunic he’d worn, his hair looking almost as dark as hers in the shadows of the barn.

She stares at the paper for at least a minute, terrified that if she takes her eyes off of it, it will disappear. Eventually though, her hand reaches into the case again, pulls out more papers. It delights her to realise that some have actual colour, not simply black ink. Her apple tree is there, shown in fall, the trees all around blushing orange and red, the fruit heavy on its branches. Rocinante, running in an endless field of green grass, no tack or bridle but it’s him, she knows. Daniel again, and her home, and the places she found the most comfort, and finally it occurs to her what Mal has done: she made Regina tangible copies of her memories. Something she can easily carry with her.

She finds herself speechless with gratitude.

“Tomorrow night,” Mal reminds softly, resting a hand on Regina’s shoulder. “Don’t be late,” she teases (it was one time, Regina grouses in her head) and then with a “Good night, little queen,” she disappears.

 

* * *

 

The moon is full, making it no problem to navigate the path to the woods. She’s never been here before, has only heard stories about Leopold’s knights daring each other to enter. Some say it’s haunted; Regina figures the dead can’t really hurt her more than the living have at this point, so she forges on. The path begins to climb, winds its way through several copses of trees and then continues to ascend. To her right, trees continue up the slope of the hills as far as the eye can see. To her left is a drop at roughly a 45 degree angle. She picks her way carefully, occasionally catching a hem of her divided skirts on a thornbush and cursing quietly.

Finally, she reaches a plateau, all smooth stone and about twenty yards across. The moon reflects off of something halfway between the trees and the edge where the entire cliff face has sheared away. She approaches, sees a fist-sized jewel and the runes around it, and immediately stops. There’s the ordinary runes you’d expect for a perception filter (and hadn’t THAT been a fun lesson with Rumple, learning how not to be fooled by them) but the fourth from the left has a different line to it. It’s one she’s only seen in spell books so far, and she knows that if she touches that jewel while this spell is active and that rune is there, she’s dead. It might be now or a day or ten but if she touches it, she is marked for death; and Death will most certainly come calling.

With a last glance, she leaves the jewel and wanders over near the edge of the cliff, looks down. Perhaps two hundred feet below, a river flows around massive boulders. Regina glances around, sets down her pack, and sits down with her legs hanging over the edge.

“Oh mother, it’s a good thing you can’t see me now,” Regina murmurs.

It’s another ten minutes before she sees the first flicker of shadow against the horizon. With the moon, it might’ve been a bat (she saw several during her climb.) She watches as Mal grows bigger in her sight, the moonlight shining off of her scales like a beacon. By the time she reaches the platform the purple hue is obvious.

Mal lands, shakes her wings out by her sides to settle them, and turns to place her head beside Regina, nudging her. The young queen’s mouth quirks slightly at the behaviour, but she reaches around to rub the spot behind the crown of Mal’s skull, her smile growing at the noise the dragon makes. Not like a cat purring, more rattling and popping, but still an indication of her appreciation.

“Are you transforming for our trip through this portal?”

After a second, she feels the dragon at the edges of her mind. Oddly, it feels like she’s waiting for an invitation of some sorts. Regina thinks an affirmative, and suddenly her head has two residents, not one.

I think it may be best, Mal says silently. I’ve read everything I could find about the realm on the other side, but it’s been 700 years since this portal was opened.

“You weren’t around then?” Regina sasses, and the dragon huffs, a wisp of smoke emerging from her nostrils.

Impudent pup, Mal says, eyes narrowed. I could eat you for breakfast on this trip if I get hungry enough.

Regina’s smile is as bright as the stars above them. Mal’s words are biting, but the edges of emotion that surround them inside Regina’s mind show how affectionate the dragon is feeling just now. The queen is preparing another quip, this one about how maybe Mal is so old she’s just forgotten what she once knew, when there’s a flash of blue light from the centre of the spell circle. It rises as a line and then splits, in threes, then in threes again, slowly at first but picks up speed until Regina can’t pick out which were the original strands anymore. The lines of seem to curve around one another, almost like snakes. If she stares long enough, she might even be able to see a pattern.

The inside of one outstretched wing shields her eyes from the sight as Mal’s thoughts gently pull Regina back from her contemplation. Caution, dearest. Perhaps you ought not to stare so keenly.

Regina shakes her head, trying to clear it. Her eyes find the dragon’s, and she nods. “So?”

The dragon tilts her head down and blinks once in agreement, and then together, they step toward the portal, let it sweep around them (Regina notes that the deadly part of the enchantment is now gone from the spell, washed away when the lights appeared.)

When the portal closes, nothing is left behind, except ring of ordinary stones, and the pine trees towering above.

After about five minutes, a figure, cloaked and hooded, walks out onto the same ledge. It walks to where the portal used to be. And then it walks over to the edge of the cliff. It doesn’t stop, but continues walking straight out onto thin air, then begins to sink, slowly. About 10 seconds into its descent, it halts, then moves forward toward the cliff face, revealing a cave. Inside, it walks up to the drawings on the wall, older than any book written. A map of portals.

Inside the hood, the figure smiles.


End file.
